Tent City Blues

Beyond
the cracked sidewalk, and the telephone pole with layers of flyers in
a rainbow of colors, and the patch of dry brown grass there stood a
ten-foot-high concrete block wall, caked with dozens of coats of
paint. There was a small shrine at the foot of it, with burnt-out
candles and dead flowers and a few soggy teddy bears. One word of
graffiti-filled the wall, red letters on a gold background: Rejoice!

Across
the street was a ragged encampment known to the locals as Tent City.
Emerging from his tent one cold and dreary morning in February of the
year 2017, a bedraggled man of about twenty years of age stared
across the street at the sign and small shrine and thought to
himself, “Rejoice? What the hell is there to rejoice about
anyway? Just another lousy day in Tent City.” Rubbing the back
of his neck, he walked across the street to the smoking bench beside
the shrine and contemplated going back to bed or setting off to
forage for food.

His
name was Harlan and he considered himself cursed from the day he
learned it. His life had not been an easy one, whether that was due
to his name or just bad luck in general, he wasn’t sure. He had
flunked out of high school about four years earlier, somehow made his
way to this encampment and had been here ever since. When he’d
first showed up, he’d had to hang around the locals a while,
getting to know them before they ever invited him to stay.

His
name was Harlan and he considered himself cursed from the day he
learned it.

He’d
proven himself useful, raiding trash cans and dumpsters and bringing
treasures like food just tossed out that morning, or matches he would
swipe from local bars. Soon, the self-appointed leader of this here
Tent City, (because in Chicago there are many such cities), a man
named Dean offered him the tent of a lady who had moved on to greener
pastures, the rest, as they say, was history.

Harlan
was a white boy, in fact, most of the residents of this tent city
were, with a smattering of Latinos and Blacks. Everyone got along
well here because they had to, or else. Dean ran a tight ship. No
stealing was allowed, nor fighting, and you were expected to get out
every day and scrounge for whatever you could bring to the table or
find yourself kicked out. He did his best to try and belong, he was
quiet but listened and observed everything around him. He may not
have been book smart, yet he was savvy in the ways of the world. He
stayed on Dean’s good side by providing whatever he could find.

Dean
himself watched over the entire encampment, looked after the
residents, provided what he could to the neediest and gave protection
to the women. He was around fifty Harlan guessed, said he was
ex-military, but his family had left him when he lost his job, so he
had wandered down to this park on the east side of Chicago and set up
his own tent. The rest had grown around him, he’d been here
around ten years or so he said. Dean was in pretty good shape, just
starting to gray around the temples and always wore a cap of some
kind, usually a drab green one like the guys in the Army wore. He had
kind eyes, but the set of his mouth let everyone know he took no BS
from anyone.

Harlan
inquired.

Harlan
wandered the streets for miles every day, trying to see whom he could
befriend or steal from, finding himself in a different neighborhood
every week or so. Most people worked that lived in Cook County, or
were enrolled in school, yet he stumbled on some stay-at-home moms
occasionally. Unfortunately, they got to know his face after a bit,
his begging had become tiresome, so they mostly kept the doors shut
tight. He was persistent though, and most of the time it paid off. He
wished he had a regular, someone he could count on to lend a hand,
some supplies, or a snack every now and then. Maybe even find a
friend.

Eventually,
he met a kid who had been playing hooky from school, riding his
skateboard in his driveway. “Hey” Harlan had called out
to him. “Hi,” the kid said back. “What’s your
name?” Harlan inquired. The kid said, “Scotty, what’s
yours?” Harlan told him his name and asked him why he wasn’t
in school. Scotty told him he just didn’t feel like going, so
when his folks left for work, he decided he was skipping for the day.
Harlan asked him if he had any food he could spare and Scotty had
gone in the house and brought him a slice of cold, pepperoni pizza on
a napkin. They had sat on lawn chairs in the kid’s driveway and
gotten to know each other.

From
that day on, Scotty was known only to Harlan as “pizza kid.”
He told him that he lived in Tent City, where it was located, and to
come and see him sometime and he’d show him his rare collection
of baseball cards, the only worthwhile thing he had in his
possession. Scotty promised he would come to visit, maybe after
school one day, or on the weekends. He loved baseball and was anxious
to see Harlan’s collection.

From
that day on, Scotty was known only to Harlan as “pizza kid.”

This
little friendship had not escaped the eyes of Dean. That guy saw
everything. He didn’t care really if there was no breaking the
rules, you could bring a friend to visit. He just couldn’t
understand what Scotty saw in Harlan, except that maybe they were
close in age. Scotty was clean-cut, polite, and from the “right
side of the tracks.” Harlan was scruffy, long-haired and quiet.
He didn’t care much about his personal hygiene. Dean figured
everyone needed a friend though, so he didn’t push the issue.

Harlan
was friends with a few other residents in Tent City, but not many.
He’d met a lady named Francine who had a toddler boy of about
three. He kind of watched over her made sure no one stole her stuff
when she went out foraging every day. Some days they would walk to
the soup kitchen around the corner for a bowl of hot soup and a cup
of hot, black coffee. You learned to like it when that’s all
there was. They had shared their sad stories with each other. That’s
all anyone in Tent City really had anyway.

Francine
had survived a brutal marriage of about 4 years, however, when her
husband threatened to whip her child, she gathered a few belongings
and snuck off in the dark of night. She stayed in a shelter until
they kicked her out, she had not been able to find work or a sitter
for Darian, her son, so she had to move on. That’s how most
people wound up in this park Harlan had said. They weren’t bad
people, just down on their luck. Francine had considered herself
lucky she got away from her abuser, a Cuban with a horrible temper,
she knew a tent was not the best home for her and her child, yet it
would have to do until she could arrange something better.

Tent
City was in Calumet Park and was arranged in rows of ten to a row.
They all faced the concrete wall across the street yet had zippers to
close against the harsh elements of the Illinois winter. Each
resident was provided with a cot and a tent. The rest they had to
figure out for themselves. There was greenery around, the park was
home to many species of trees, a hedgerow here, a few bushes there.
It provided a small bit of protection from the elements. Dean walked
the rows daily, checking on residents, tending to the ill, sharing
supplies he somehow managed to procure from his vast network of
connections.

Harlan
remembered the night Francine had wandered up to the park, carrying a
heavy backpack and pushing Darian in a stroller. He and Dean had been
across the street on a bench next to the wall with its shrine, they
had been sharing a smoke when Francine approached. She’d
stopped when she saw them from her spot on the sidewalk. “You
got any place for me to stay Mister?” She had asked Dean.
Harlan recalled how frightened she had seemed, she was literally
shaking, and doubt was written all over her face. Taking a step back,
she looked ready to bolt if Dean had said no. She was pretty, she had
skin like Halle Berry and looked about as fit. Her eyes were haunted
though, he could tell she’d seen her share of bad times.

Dean
and Harlan looked her over, bent their heads and came up with a plan.
Dean said, “I’ll shack up with him for the night, nodding
his head at Harlan, and you can take my tent. We’ll get you set
up right tomorrow. “Oh, thank you so much!” Francine had
gushed, tears streaming down her face. She had been so scared she
would not find anywhere to shelter her baby. “It’s ok
lady, come on, let me move my stuff and you two can get settled for
the night.” Cautiously, warily, Francine followed him. She did
not trust strange men much, yet literally had nowhere else to go.

Dean
took them to his tent which was at the very end of row one, not far
from where he and Harlan had been sitting across the street. His was
the only two-man tent in the encampment, something he got from an old
Army buddy back in the day. Moving his stuff off the cot, he left her
the bedroll, a couple of bottles of water, and bade them goodnight.
Francine sat in stunned silence at the man’s generosity. She
had known nothing but fear and violence for the last four years.
“Thanks again”, she said as Dean left the tent. “See
you tomorrow.” was all he said back.

The
next day Dean showed up at her tent around mid-morning asking if they
were up. “We are now!” Francine had answered. Dean asked
to come in and handed her a bedroll and showed her to another tent,
on the opposite end of row number two. Miraculously, it had been
vacated in the night. No one ever found out what became of the former
occupant, Harlan guessed he’d gotten a better opportunity
somewhere else. That’s how it was in Tent City, people came and
went, sometimes places at the local shelter became available, other
times people’s family helped. It was an ever-evolving
community. Dean had connections with the local VA, that was how he
came to be able to provide the tents and bedrolls, sometimes water,
food, matches, and socks. Whatever deals could be made, Dean tried
his best to provide.

On
the other side of town, in the neighborhood where pizza boy lived, he
had woken up the day after meeting Harlan to the sound of whining
outside his bedroom window. He had peeked through the blinds to see a
scruffy looking small dog of some curly-type breed shivering between
the bushes under his window. He threw on a robe, walked outside and
scooped her up, and carried her into his garage. She was small in
stature, with many different colors of fur-brown, white, black, tan.
She had white whiskers and one white paw, she looked malnourished and
like she had not been brushed in a month. “C’mon little
lady, let’s get you warm.” She was shivering from hunger
or cold, Scotty wasn’t sure.

He
would have to keep her hidden from his folks, he thought, so he found
a box, lined it with an old blanket, and set her inside. He sat
stroking her until she calmed, then went to find a bottle of water
and something to feed her. When he returned, she looked up at him
from the box with huge scared-looking eyes. He picked her up and
twirled her around saying, “What’s your name, little
lady? Where did you come from?” She whimpered a bit, yet her
shaking did not subside. Scotty looked her over and declared, “I
think I’ll call you Rainbow, for all of your blended colors.”
He carried her as he searched the garage for something soft to cover
the box with, once he located some items to make her comfortable, he
carried her back to the original box he’d set the blanket in.
It was too small to put dishes in for food and water, so he took a
different tack.

When
the ride ended, she was lifted again. The kid slid her body onto a
soft pile of clothing among the boxes in the garage. He pulled an old
coat over the top, creating a cave that emanated the sweetness of old
ladies who frequently powdered themselves—a light rose motif
that played ironically well in the deep recesses of Rainbow’s
ancestral brain. The pizza kid lifted her head to help her lap water
from a hubcap. He broke bits of pepperoni and crust into bite-sized
pieces and left them where her tongue could reach them. Much later,
she heard him practicing his orations like songs. Like monks chanting
in the distance, they were a comfort.

Scotty
left the dog for the moment and ran all the way to Tent City to tell
Harlan the news. His tent was still zipped so he quietly scratched on
the canvas and said, “Harlan! Get up, I gotta tell you
something!” Harlan emerged, bleary-eyed and groggy. “What’s
all the fuss, Gus?” Scotty giggled and said, “I got me a
stray dog and I’m hiding her in my garage. Want to come and
see?” He pulled him along, telling him the story of how he
found the mutt he’d named Rainbow for all the different colors
of fur she had. “You sure she doesn’t have the mange,
right?” Harlan asked as they walked. He itched just considering
the possibility. “I don’t think so,” replied
Scotty.

Harlan
for his part wanted nothing to do with a stray dog, but if coffee or
pizza was available, he was all ears. “Ok, Ok!” He
laughed and let himself be dragged all the way to Scotty’s
neighborhood. “Say, when we get there, you think you could
spare a piece of pizza or a cup of something hot?” “Sure,
sure,” said Scotty, “But first I want to show you the
dog!” Fifteen minutes later, with a cup of soup in hand, Harlan
and Scotty stared down into the sad eyes of a very sick dog. He
thought it was a Terrier of some sort, yet he wasn’t up to
speed on all breeds of dogs. Swallowing hard as he looked at her
condition, Harlan felt he should warn Scotty the outlook was grim.

“Um,
I don’t know how to tell you this buddy, but she doesn’t
look so good.” Scotty visibly recoiled and said, “Aw,
don’t say that man. She just needs some TLC. Maybe I can even
get my folks to help nurse her back to health.” “Yeah,
good luck with that,” Harlan said. “Listen, I’d
help if I could but I gotta get back. Got a new lady showed up with a
kid and she needs stuff too.” He thanked pizza kid for the soup
and asked if he could spare anything for Francine and the baby.
Scotty looked around the boxes in the garage, stacked a few and found
some old clothes to put in them. He handed them to Harlan and said he
would see what else he could find and bring it down later. Harlan
thanked him and made his way back to camp. He felt somewhat sorry for
Rainbow and hoped Scotty could save her and keep her. If the boy’s
parents were anything like his had been, the odds were not in his
favor. He liked pizza boy though, so he hoped for the best.

When
he got close, he saw Francine and Dean swapping stuff into each
other’s tents, as he was helping her get situated in her new
home. Harlan approached and said, “Morning Francine, my friend
offered these here clothes and a few boxes to get you started. “Thank
him for me, will you? That was ever so nice. Right now, I’m
going to get down to the soup kitchen and find something for this boy
to eat.” Darian was currently pitching one heck of a fit, and
Francine looked at Harlan with apologetic eyes. Harlan told her it
was not a problem and shuffled on out of her tent.

That
was not all, she would need to find much more to take care of a
three-year-old that was barely potty trained. ‘One thing at a
time, Francine’ she thought to herself. She just could not
believe her luck that a tent had opened, and she would have a safe
place of her own. Her husband would never think to look for her here.
Dean and Harlan were truly godsends. For now, though, her only
concern was food, and maybe some extra blankets so Darian would have
his own place to sleep, a cot was too small for the two of them.
Perhaps someone at the soup kitchen could help her find a few things
to tide her over. She knew that was optimistic, but one could hope,
right?

One
morning, all four of them, Dean, Harlan, Francine, and baby Darian
headed out for the soup kitchen together and that is where Francine
and Harlan learned the story of the shrine by the concrete wall. It
hadn’t always been painted to say “Rejoice.” That
had been more recent. The shrine was for a child that had been killed
in a drive-by, while some kids from a neighboring community were
playing on the lot in front of the wall. Dean hunched over his bowl
of steaming, hot soup and told them the sad story.

“The
kids had just been playing stickball, minding their own business when
this car drove up and fired into the group and then drove off. No
apparent reason. Who does that???” Harlan had his own opinion
but kept it to himself. He had seen his share of gang bangers in his
life. They didn’t need a reason; they were just pure evil. Dean
had told them it was lucky only one tragedy had come of it. The
victim had been an eight-year-old boy, an innocent child. Francine
and Harlan stared at Dean as he related the story, they were properly
horrified at the tale. “Now Mr. Dean,” Francine started,
“I have to say that concerns me quite a bit. I feel horrible
for that child and I’m afraid for my own once he gets older if
we have to worry about crazy fools and such!”

“Well
it ought to concern you, Miss,” Dean answered, “But I
don’t know what we can do about it. We do what we can to keep
each other safe, you can’t account for a random act of
violence, these are the mean streets of Chicago, remember?”
Francine nodded her head and looked down into her soup. She would
have to figure out somewhere else to be soon. As if reading her
thoughts Harlan said, “I don’t figure you’ll be
around long anyway, what with that extra mouth to feed. You need to
find a job and a better place to stay, am I right?”

Francine
agreed with that all right. Just where to find a job was the issue.
Who would care for Darian, and how would she get to work anyway?
Where in the world was she going to live, if not here? These were all
problems she needed to solve as quickly as she could. Maybe if all
three of them put their heads together, they might come up with a
plan. Dean had resources and Harlan had some friends. She told them
her thoughts and soon the ideas started flowing.

Harlan
suggested that maybe she ask someone right here at the soup kitchen
about volunteering her time. No, it wouldn’t be a paid gig, but
maybe they had some connections and after she earned their trust,
they might have some ideas about a real position somewhere in the
neighborhood. Maybe she could find houses to clean or old folks that
needed a caregiver. Dean told her to check out the local VA and see
what they could offer her in the way of resources. He also knew a few
folks that might have extra blankets and other supplies she could
borrow.

“Well,
aren’t you two just a wealth of information?” Francine
said after sipping her awful brew. “Maybe I can teach them how
to make a decent cup of coffee too.” The guys just looked at
her and laughed a knowing laugh. “Not likely,” Dean
quipped. “Why don’t you leave Darian here with us and go
on over and talk to Madge. She runs the place anyway. Right over
there at the doorway to the kitchen. See her standing there with the
ladle in her hand?” Dean thought it was odd that Darian was
still in a stroller at his age, yet he kept that opinion to himself.
Maybe it was just easier for Francine to transport him this way.

Francine
cast a wary eye over at Madge, then back to Dean and Harlan. “Well,
if you’re sure you don’t mind.” After tucking him
tighter in the stroller, Francine told Darian to sit tight with the
guys and she would be right back. She timidly made her way over to
Madge who turned her soulful brown eyes to her as she approached. For
twenty minutes or so, they discussed her situation, and when Francine
walked away, she had a new respect for Madge and the other
volunteers, as well as a job if she wanted it. Madge didn’t
have much help and the people she did have looked pretty worn out.

Madge
told her she could start tomorrow and at the end of her shift, she
would give her a box of supplies like paper plates, cups, and plastic
cutlery. She also knew a lady that could watch Darian while she
worked her shift, she would introduce them before she left with Dean
and Harlan. She said she lived across the street from the soup
kitchen and watched a few other volunteer’s babies. Francine
could not be more grateful. She just could not believe her luck, or
was it her faith in God that helped her situation?

When
the trio got back to Tent City, they were surprised to see the pizza
kid waiting for them on the bench by the shrine, a box of goodies sat
at his feet. Harlan ran ahead to see what he had brought and squealed
with excitement for Dean and Francine to “come and take a
look-see.” “Glad to make your acquaintance, “Scotty
said as he reached for Francine’s hand. Dean nodded hello as he
walked up. Scotty’s mom had packed the box with blankets and
clothing, baby wipes and diapers, bottles and a few toys for Darian.
Francine leaned in with obvious amazement. She looked from the box to
Scotty and slowly shook her head.

“I
don’t know how to thank you,” Francine said as tears
filled her eyes. “Mama said don’t worry about it, she
went around to some of the neighbors and they gave what they thought
might help.” “Oh, my goodness, this is too much.”
Francine thanked him profusely, and Harlan assisted her with the box
back to her tent, then left her to sort it all out. Running back to
the bench and Scotty, he shook his hand and thanked him as well.
“Mama also told me to tell her that there is a lady that lives
down the street from us, needs her house cleaned once a week if
Francine is interested.”

Pondering
this new bit of information, Harlan thanked pizza boy and slowly made
his way to Francine’s tent. If he told her the news, would she
still volunteer at the soup kitchen? Maybe he would suggest she start
there before speaking to Scotty’s mom, or, maybe she would find
a way to do both!!

Kicking
rocks and pulling his coat tighter against the cold wind, he decided
to have an honest discussion with her and feel her out on the
subject. Francine got wide-eyed at the thought of paid employment,
yet already felt committed to helping at the soup kitchen. After all,
Madge had offered to help her out with the supplies and all.

“Let
me sleep on it, that always helps me make a tough decision.”
Harlan thought that wise, yet still felt skeptical. Realizing he felt
that way made a light bulb go off in his own head. As he left
Francine’s tent, he decided to go talk to Madge himself and see
if he could help in any way. Maybe he really cared about someone
other than himself. Maybe, this would make him feel better about
himself, raise his self-esteem.

Arriving
at the soup kitchen about fifteen minutes later, he found Madge
running around like a chicken with its head cut off. “Hey
Madge,” he hollered. “What you want child, can’t ya
see I’m crazy busy?” “Uh, yes ma’am, I was
coming in to see if I could be of help to you somehow.” “Child!
Bless your heart! Yes, sir indeed, I could use you right this
minute!” Harlan felt his chest swell while simultaneously
feeling a bit nervous. Rushing to her side, he asked, “What can
I do, where do you need me to go?” “Well, I would love
you to death if you got on that soup line, it’s very simple,
just ladle the soup into the people’s bowls that's it. I’ll
check up on you in a little while.”

‘Well
that’s easy,’ Harlan thought to himself. He had no idea
how standing in line for hours ladling soup might affect him, he just
got in line and went to it. Seeing all the faces of the hungry being
fed, made him feel useful and productive. No, it didn’t pay,
yet he got a sense of satisfaction
from it anyway. As he spooned steaming hot soup into heavy-duty paper
bowls, he watched the faces of those receiving it. Some looked
grateful, some looked blank, and others actually looked entitled.
He just couldn’t figure people out these days.

As
he worked, he got a fabulous idea. What if he asked pizza boy to come
volunteer, and what if his mom would think volunteering for the soup
kitchen meant he could keep his new furry friend? He decided right
then and there to ask Madge when his shift was over if Scotty could
be used here. Yes, he was just a kid, however, he might be handy in
the kitchen, helping folks to a table, taking out the trash….
who knew??

Madge
didn’t want to overwhelm Harlan on his first day, so she
checked on him after forty-five minutes and asked him how he was
feeling. “Excited!” Harlan replied. “This is
amazing helping folks like this. And I have an idea I want to ask you
about.” Madge’s face lit up as he spoke. “What is
it, child?” “Well, I was wondering if you could use some
more help. My friend, his name is Scotty, but I call him pizza boy,
got a sick, stray dog he’s hiding from his parents. Anyway, I
was thinking what if he could volunteer here to keep Rainbow and help
you out in the process?”

Scratching
her head in wonderment at this new side of Harlan, Madge just looked
at him. “Child, you are full of surprises today. How long you
been coming here, not once did you ever consider helping. And now
look at ya. Full of ideas. Well, I think that’s a conversation
for you, your friend, and his parents to have first. Then you come
back and see me if they give him the okay.”

“That
sounds great, Madge! I’ll go see him right after I leave here.
In fact, if you’re done with me for today, I could go right
now.” “Yes, yes honey-child, you go on. Can I count on
you to be here tomorrow, say eleven o’clock?”
“Absolutely!!” Harlan was so excited; he nearly ran out
with his apron on. Laughing at himself, he took it off and handing it
to Madge he said, “See ya manana!!” Madge just shook her
head and laughed.

Running
all the way to Scotty’s house, Harlan was full of joy. He never
knew he could feel this way and marveled at himself for waiting so
long to become a volunteer. He so hoped his idea would go over with
pizza boy, he never even thought of the possibility that the scheme
wouldn’t work. Arriving at Scotty’s house, he rang his
bell and as he stood on the porch, he was unprepared to see a very
depressed looking Scotty open the door. “Hey man, what’s
up?” he said in an upbeat way. Scotty looked at him with sad
eyes and told him his mom found out about Rainbow and was not
supportive at all.

“Hey,
man. Don’t worry about it, I got a great idea. Can I come in
and tell you about it?” “Sure, sure.” Scotty said,
backing up to let him in. Harlan had never been in their living room
before. “Wow, this is a nice house, man.” “Thanks.”
Scotty said, still looking down. “How IS Rainbow anyway?”
Harlan inquired. “That’s the problem,” Scotty told
him. “Mom said we don’t have the money for a sick dog in
the house.” “Aww, man. Well listen up, I’m
volunteering down at the soup kitchen and I thought that maybe you
could ask your mom if you could do it too to earn Rainbow’s
keep. Whaddya think?” Scotty brightened for a moment and asked,
“What would I do? Do you think your idea will work? You ain’t
never seen my mom when she’s mad, man. I don’t know.”

Harlan
thought about all this and said, “What if I stay and talk to
her with you? I can tell her how good it feels to help people and
maybe she will think it’s so nice she will let you do it.”
“Yeah, that does sound nice,” pizza boy said, “but
how will volunteering help pay for Rainbow to get well?” “Aww,
man. Well, I hadn’t thought about that.” Together they
waited for Scotty’s parents to arrive. They checked in on
Rainbow who was looking as lethargic as ever, then Harlan told pizza
boy all about how Francine was going to work there and how that gave
him the idea to do it, to how good it made him feel to be helping
out. Soon Scotty’s mom walked in the door and he about knocked
her down in his excitement to ask the questions.

Barbara,
Scotty’s mom, calmed him down and said, “Let’s go
sit down and talk about it. Harlan, would you like something to
drink?” He politely declined to which Barbara looked mildly
shocked. “Ok, what is all the hubbub about?” Both guys
started talking at once and Barbara couldn’t help but smile her
amusement at the excitement pouring out of both. “My goodness!
Well, I’m not sure if that is doable, but I promise I’ll
discuss it with your father. In the meantime, I think you should go
and look for another home for Rainbow, just in case. Maybe you should
ask at the pound, they might know someone with the means to help her.
I also think that you should really think about this volunteer job as
an opportunity to better yourself, regardless of the outcome. Helping
those who have it worse than you is a noble cause.”

Scotty
looked dejected but went along as she’d asked. First, he and
Harlan went to the soup kitchen and asked Madge if she could use him,
in case his mom agreed. She said of course, and they chose a time
that would work for him, like after school a couple of days a week.
Then the guys walked down to the pound, a good five blocks from the
soup kitchen. Scotty explained his situation and they said sorry,
they did not need another dog to take care of now. Back at Scotty’s
house, they found Barbara and Scotty’s dad, Blaine, sitting on
the couch looking serious. “Hey, guys. What did you find out?”
Harlan spoke up and said that Madge could use Scotty after school a
couple of days a week. Then Scotty told his parents the pound was a
no go. Looking at his sad face and then at each other, Blaine said,
“I think it’s wonderful you want to volunteer Scotty.
Let’s start with a trial run, I will take Rainbow to the vet
and you can keep her in the garage until she gets well. However, the
minute you shirk in your responsibilities, out she goes.”

The
boys hugged each other with excitement. “Thank you, sir,”
Harlan said, you don’t know how happy Madge is gonna be to have
three new helpers at the soup kitchen!!” Blaine smiled at
Barbara and said, “Scotty’s mother is very persuasive.”
Then he winked. Harlan smiled and said to Scotty, I’ll see ya
soon, man. I gotta go tell Francine she’s gonna have some
company! Dean is gonna be so proud of all of us too!” With
that, he practically flew all the way back to camp, barged in
Francine’s tent and said, “Have I got good news for
you!!” Later, after sharing the story with Dean who was
thrilled as well, Harlan started across the street for a well-earned
smoke and a rest on the bench. As he looked at the Rejoice! sign once
again he thought to himself, ‘Now I get it.’ He lit up
and sat for a while, pondering his decisions in the last two days. As
he puffed, he watched all the folks moving around across the street.
Now he didn’t feel quite so much like his days were crappy
here, now that he had dreams, and a sense of purpose. He had learned
that life is what you make it, and along with his new friends, he had
a chance to make his better. Rejoice indeed!